His Virgin Babysitter(7)

By: Lila Younger



“Poor thing,” Gina murmurs. “I’ll take care of things here Mr. Sedgwick. Don’t you worry about it.”

“Thank you. I’ll let you know once I figure out what to do.”

As soon as I hang up, I pay for the tab and take Luna to her favorite park. As she climbs up on the jungle gym, I repeatedly try Stacie’s phone. I even try to find RJ through her Facebook friends, but there’s nothing. Maybe I should have asked more questions, paid more attention, but right now there’s nothing for it. I’m going to have to take Luna home with me.

I rifle through the girl’s backpack. There’s a coloring book, a doll, and a manila envelope with my name on it. Stacie didn’t even pack clothes for the kid, which tells me that she hasn’t told Luna that she’s going to leave. Damn, that’s cold. I open up the envelope, and see a birth certificate. Luna Rose Ellsworth. Under father, I see my name. She’s going to be five on April 12th. I feel my gut clench in anger on Luna’s behalf.

As Luna plays, I formulate a plan. I’ll keep her with me, find a nanny, and maybe ease off on my work a little. I have no idea how long Stacie’s going to disappear for, but the more I think about it, the more I decide not to give Luna up without a fight. I call up an old friend, John, who works in family court and discuss the situation with him. I want custody.

Once that’s sorted, I call Luna back. If she’s staying with me, we’re going to have to stock up. My bachelor pad is anything but kid friendly.

********

I watch Jade as she leaves Luna and I, soft curves swaying as she walks. I still can’t believe that this was my neighbor. She barely had her nose out of a book back then, just a shy slip of a girl that I would occasionally see on my way to work. That was back when I had just gotten hired and needed a cheap place to live. The duplex was two minutes away from a bus line that stopped right in front of the office, and it was a space I could call my own. No more neighbors blasting music at three in the morning, elevators breaking down that never got repaired. It was fantastic really, even if the commute was longer than I wanted.

But now, now Jade is something else. Nice round ass, wide hips, generous handfuls of breast. The perfect kind of body that had me wishing I could bend her over the freezer bins and fuck senseless. Damn. How old was she anyways? Eight, ten years younger? I shouldn’t be thinking about her that way. I really shouldn’t.

“She’s nice,” Luna observes. “Is she my babysitter?”

“Jade? Yes, she will be. She’s daddy’s friend and I agree, she’s very nice.”

We were using two different definitions of nice, but I didn’t tell her that.

“Better than RJ,” Luna says.

“Good.” I don’t want you to ever go back to that, I add silently. “Now, how about even more pancakes for dinner?”

Luna’s face lights up, and I feel a sucker punch of emotion that knocks me senseless. How the fuck could Stacie ever abandon such an adorable kid?





Jade


Wow.

That’s all there really is to say about Mr. Sedgwick, I mean Carter’s house. I don’t even know if you would call this a house anymore. A mansion? That’s it. I peer out my windshield to really take it all in. It’s only two stories, but it’s a sprawling two stories. In fact, it looks like an HGTV design home, the kind where there’s a bathroom suite for every bedroom, and a private movie screening room or something. Did he really live in this house all by himself? I’d feel so lost, like a marble rolling around in a bucket. The house is set far back from the road too, for extra privacy, and the neighbors’ homes are almost out of sight. I come from a home where I could never open my curtains because I was two feet from my neighbor, so I’m definitely in awe.

Just in case I accidently drove to the wrong house, I check the address he gave me one more time. Nope, this is definitely the place.

“Let’s do this. Don’t want to be late on the first day Jade.”

Having given myself the pep talk, I step out. I hope that I didn’t dress down too much for the occasion. I’ve got my purple hoodie and a pair of skinny jeans tucked in boots. Stuff that I know can take on a rambunctious kid without worry. But looking at this place, I wonder if maybe I should have dressed up a little bit. The grounds are immaculately tended to, and I almost expect a gardener to come walking around the corner with a wheelbarrow. I wonder if maybe Carter has a maid too. And then I worry, because this doesn’t look like the kind of house for a little kid. It looks like one with million dollar art and sculptures that little hands could dirty or break. I hope that isn’t the case. Carter’s a new dad, and he might not know that about kids. Having grown up with a bunch of siblings, I only know too well.

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